Brother and Sister
by bread and coal
Summary: Haha, broken jaw, and don’t you think it’s funny? But then you’ve never had a broken jaw before, have you, Monsieur Perfection?
1. Chapter 1

Haha, broken jaw, and don't you think it's funny? But then you've never had a broken jaw before, have you, Monsieur Perfection?

I hate you.

Standing there laughing at me, but not out loud, not even really laughing at all because you're just too damn nice to laugh, aren't you, little brother?

I hate you, hate you, hate you.

No, you've never had your ribs snapped or your jaw broken or your nose bloodied. You've never even been slapped by the icy palm of her golden hand. Because I'm always in the way.

Because I hate, hate, hate you.

Now tell me a story, you say, even though it's fairly bloody obvious that I'm not going to be doing any real talking for a while. And it hurts beyond any pain you've ever known, but I open my mouth and say _once upon a time there was a horrible little boy named Jack and all he ever did was whine and one day a wolf came out of the forest and ate him_.

You bear this with grace, o perfect one, and so you say: _now a real one_ and I tell you to go away.

But you never go away.

So I say _once upon a time there was an evil evil witch of a stepmother and she was cruel to her husband's children and he was such a coward that he went and died and left them all defenseless and alone._

But no! No, little golden boy, little perfect child, this is not to be! _Father didn't mean to die_! You shout, ever the defender of the permanently absent. Ever the little nobleman.

_Shut up. One day the children- actually only one was a child and the other was almost a grown woman but she couldn't damn well leave just like that because she has nowhere to go and her stupid perfect brother would probably go and get himself killed anyway. One day the children were walking in the woods and a little white bird with the bluest eyes in the world flew down out of the trees and touched their foreheads and they turned into eagles and flew away._

_And then what, _you want to know, because nothing is ever good enough. But I'm done talking, my jaw is on fire and my whole head feels like a hammered nail, but you are never satisfied, little monster. _And then what? What then? _

_Then they were happy._

The end.


	2. Chapter 2

Because of course you had to run ahead and get yourself turned into a deer.

Of course.

Have I mentioned that I hate you?

Have I mentioned that just because I can hear things whispering in the streams it doesn't mean I'm mad but it does, in fact, mean that you are an idiot for not listening to the only person in your life who doesn't want you dead?  
I should have left you.

_I should have left you, _I say, but now your eyes are even bigger and wetter and sadder and this is all my fault. Should have chained you to me. Should have never let you out of my sight. Should have let you turn into a wolf and kill me and then I wouldn't have to worry with any of this stupidity ever again.

And just to keep you from crying your big stupid deer tears even though deer can't cry but you, of course, being perfect, can do anything you want. And apparently you want to cry.

_Once upon a time there was a brother and sister and they ran away from home_. And you're hooked. You look at me with nothing but love and to fight the urge to hit you I continue to speak. _And they ran into the forest and a golden bird flew down from the trees and kissed their hands. And their hands became hooves and their necks grew long and they turned into deer. Because they were idiots. But then they grew wings too and flew away. And then they were happy._

And in my rage and worry and fear and prattling I managed to forget that my jaw is in more pieces than it should be, so now I'm in more pain than you, even as a gorgeous lovely perfect deer, can comprehend.

And you can't talk, thank God for small favors, but you are looking at me with that _and then what_ look. I turn away. And then what, little brother? Then they got lost in a forest and probably got caught and killed by their witch of a stepmother in a matter of hours. That's what.

But I'm stubborn and you're tireless (perfect) so off we go, tra la la, tripping along through the poisonous shadows of this bloody forest. And you're such a good deer, following along obediently. And I'm such a good sister, not slitting your throat and eating you even though you deserve it because in a rare moment of imperfection, you, o four-legged golden child, managed to drop our provisions in that damned stream.

And oh, how I hate you.

But never fear, little brother. We'll keep walking. At least, I'll keep walking. I'll keep walking till my feet fall off and then you'll go bounding away, off into the darkness, basking in the glow of your own goodness. And I'll die.

And that'll be the end.


	3. Chapter 3

-

And I could feel her breath on my shoulders behind me so I said yes.

Except actually I couldn't feel or even hear her but I knew she was coming, I knew she was coming so I said yes.

Except actually I said _why not_? And he laughed his kingly handsome laugh and you know I think there very well may be such a thing as love. Maybe. Someday.

He is handsome, though.

Which is not the point. He is a king, and a king can protect us. He is a king and I am going to be a queen and you, little brother, are still a deer.

We're going to have to do something about that, you know.

Kings have sorcerers. I met one already and he told me he might be able to turn you into a girl but probably not a boy, so I told him not to bother. I should let him, it would serve you right for running off and getting yourself turned into a deer in the first place, you perfect little fool.

And of course all the castle maidens are fawning over you and you're eating out of their hands like the sweet little perfect darling you are and making me almost wish we could change places just so I could bite somebody. Because that is the kind of deer that I would be. The kind that bites.

But you wouldn't know anything about that.

And they feed you and pet you and call you sweetling and you've taken to following them around and tripping on their pretty gowns and oh, how you all laugh and frolic. And I am ever so happy for you, dear, because you've found some perfect playmates for your perfect happiness and there is no doubt that you will live ever so perfectly ever after.

You take to them so readily, and I don't blame you, really I don't.

I don't blame you because I hate you.

But I can't help but wonder, little brother, where all these giggling girls were when you needed a barrier from a roaring, vicious monster of a woman thrice your size and twice mine? And would you follow them so readily if their lovely little faces were scarred and marred and bruised and all of their jaws were broken?

I really don't know what he sees in me.

It matters little. Except that always at last you return to me for comfort even though heaven knows I have none to give. You return and look at me with that stupid look you've had all your life and I say _once upon a time a brother and sister found an enchanted castle in the woods where the brother fell in with a bunch of giggling nitwits and they all ran about and played. And then one day he saw them without their powder and rouge and diamonds and dresses and they turned out to be a bunch of boring trolls- not even the exciting kind of trolls- the kind that don't really do anything and are too stupid to talk. But all the brother cared about was looks so the sister left forever and he and the lovely girls lived happily ever after._

And you eat a carrot.

And I hate you.

Except…

Never mind. It's late. It's quiet. I'm in a castle. You're still a deer. And tomorrow, I'm getting married.

And then, of course, all our troubles will end.

-


	4. Chapter 4

She killed me, you bastard.

All right, I admit she didn't really truly kill me but she may as well have when she witched her daughter in my likeness and dumped my body in the bath chamber and proceeded to set it on _fire_. I was too weak to fight her -childbirth apparently has that effect- but not, somehow, too weak to crawl out the window and get the fuck out of there.

She will _not_ have me again, I tell you.

And you, deer child, caught my stench in your pretty little nose and for reasons beyond my fathom, except possibly because it appears that your idiocy knows _no _bounds- you _followed _me.

And here we are.

In the forest, again, and isn't that funny, and oh I just bet your chuckling behind those stupid liquid eyes.

Ha ha ha, we're as good as dead.

And I can tell by looking at you that you think we'll be safe in forest. Right. Because you got yourself magicked into a deer while tripping along through a _town_.

We cannot go into the forest. We cannot go back to the castle. We cannot go into the village. And I cannot understand why I am still thinking in terms of _we_.

Because the safest possible thing for both of us, now that she is here and will soon find out that I am not dead, is to split up. Leave. Go our separate ways. So I tell you to run along, to go frolic in the forest awhile, and promise to be here when you get back.

And you lie down.

Perfect.

You give me that stupid look and I comply, because it's late and it's dark and the forest is wide, and what better defense than a story, a lie?

_Once upon a time there was a huge dark castle and in it lived a girl with long, long hair-_

And suddenly the pain hits me like her own hard hands, and for the first time since this morning I feel as though I could cry. My hair is gone, burned to ash.

The least of my losses. I start again:

_Once upon a time there was a girl with golden hair and no heart-_

And suddenly I remember how I looked up and saw myself, tangled golden locks and all, and for a moment I thought I was having a vision until I saw the absent eye. I was there when Marged lost that eye, rammed through by a hot poker held by her own dearest mother, and apparently even the best of magic cannot hide those kind of scars.

_Once there was a girl who lived in a cottage-_

But I break off again, because I can see the little dark hole of a cottage and Marged skipping around doing her mother's bidding. _Once upon a time there was a girl whose anger burned a hole inside her. _Stupid, fickle Marged, who saved your life more than once, mostly by accident. Stupid, ugly Marged with one eye, no spine, and a royal bed to lie in and a royal husband to keep. _Once there was a king and his queen was a false queen. _Stupid, stupid Marged, bowing to her mother. Stupid, stupid, Marged who thinks she can be me. Foolish girl. He will know her the moment she speaks, and then- then-

Then he will be killed.

Or worse.

She would do it. She would do it well, and without qualms. And then through Marged she would have the kingdom, and no one, no where, will ever be safe again.

And even now her own whore lies in the bed of my husband, and for that I may forgive her because Marged always was bloody stupid. But if she lays a hand on my son I will cut off her fingers and force them down her false throat one by one. This I _swear._

And I look at you, trapped in the body of a deer, staring at me as if you wished you could say something. And I look at my skirts, tattered and charred and stark against the forest floor. And I look at my hands, shining with scars in the falling darkness.

And I say: _Once upon a time there was a girl who was afraid for so long that the world seemed nothing but stone and darkness. And she ran and she hid and she ran and she hid and then one day she realized that she couldn't run or hide anymore. Once upon a time there was a wife and a mother and a sister, a sister, who decided to stop running. Who decided to turn around and fight._

And then it all falls into place like the pieces of a puzzle, like it was meant to be. And this time you really must stay here, little brother, because tonight, I tell you, there will be a death besides my own.

I am going back to that castle.

It is time to put an end to this.


End file.
